Triana lifted her head to look at him, then slowly and carefully ate another bite of fish, clearly savoring it. When she finished up by licking her lips, he was relatively sure everyone in the dining room could hear the thump his hard-on made as it smacked the underside of the table.
“I think it’s a pity you don’t feel comfortable enough with me to talk about those naughty thoughts,” she said as she sipped her wine. “I’d enjoy hearing every one of them in slow, exquisite detail.”
Remy’s fingers tingled and he quickly slid his hands under the tablecloth to hide the fact that his claws had slipped out. Damn, this woman was dangerous. He flexed his fingers a few times until his claws retracted. Crisis averted—for now at least.
“I guess I’ll have to be bolder, then,” he said. “I’m sure that by the time we have dessert, I won’t be able to keep my thoughts to myself anymore.”
Triana smiled. “Good, because I thought we could go to Café du Monde for beignets and coffee after dinner. I just love the way that powdered sugar sprinkled over the top of them gets absolutely everywhere.”
That vivid image of her covered in powdered sugar was almost enough to have Remy calling for the check. But he resisted, knowing this night of extended verbal foreplay was only getting started. He might have a difficult time walking with an erection, but he had no problem stretching the evening out, if for no other reason than the anticipation would make the end of the night even better. So, as difficult as it was for him to think about anything other than the image of Triana covered in powdered sugar, he did his best to move the conversation toward another topic.
“In a blatant and obvious change of subject, how do you like living and working in Houston?” he asked, spearing another piece of steak.
Triana laughed but otherwise didn’t bat an eye, smoothly shifting gears from sultry to casual with the agility of a Ferrari—she’d always possessed a quick and clever mind, even back in high school.
“Well, there’s no one in the crime lab sneaking around sleeping together, so it’s not as exciting as your team, but I still enjoy it,” she said with a smile. “It’s extremely satisfying being able to use my science background to do something meaningful.”
“Do you ever get a chance to go into the field and work an active crime scene?”
He’d seen techs collecting evidence in the field in Dallas all the time, but he didn’t know much about how crime labs were organized in other police departments.
She shrugged. “Sometimes. We have a team of trained crime scene investigators who do most of that work, though. I’ve had the chance to go out a few times, when there was something special the police wanted us to check for or if investigators wanted us to actually conduct a test in the field. But to tell the truth, I prefer the safe and cozy confines of my lab. Call me a wuss, but I’m an analyst, not a cop.”
Remy laughed. “That’s not being a wuss. That’s being smart.”
They talked some more about the kind of work she did before moving on to other personal topics, such as where she lived, what she did for fun, and what her social life was like.
“Is that your roundabout way of asking me if I’m dating anyone?” she asked in a playful tone.
He put on a shocked expression even though she was right. He hadn’t intended to ask her something like that, but it had kind of slipped out.
“Of course not,” he lied. “I would never ask anything so personal. I’m just concerned you might be one of those scientist types who’s always getting so wrapped up in their work that they forget to take care of themselves.”
The smile she gave him made him think she wasn’t buying it. “Well, that’s really sweet of you to worry about me like that, but you don’t need to. There’s a lawyer in Houston I see on and off. It’s nothing serious, but he keeps me from getting too wrapped up in work.”
Remy couldn’t help wondering if she was messing with him just to get a reaction. Well, it worked. He and Triana were merely hanging out for the week while they were in New Orleans, and yet he was bothered by the idea of her with another guy. Feeling a little spike of jealousy when anonymous men watched her walk across the room was one thing, but getting pissed at a man she might or might not be seeing, even on and off, was insane.
Maybe so, but the sensation was there, and it was frigging real. Suddenly, he was sorry he’d asked her the question in the first place. It had been better not knowing.
“What about you?” Triana asked, setting her fork and knife on her empty plate. “Is there anyone back in Dallas you see now and then to get your mind off work?”
Alarm bells went off as Triana’s flirty tone changed to something more serious. He realized he was about to step into a potential minefield and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Me?” He shook his head. “No, I’m not really seeing anyone seriously at the moment. In fact, I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”
Remy held his breath, expecting Triana to call him out. It wasn’t that he was lying. He honestly hadn’t been on a date in years—but that was only because he tended to limit his social contact to women who didn’t use the word date. Hookup was probably a better term to go with, though he doubted Triana would appreciate the difference.
“Good answer,” she said with a smile. “Ready for those beignets now?”
* * *
As they walked out of Muriel’s and headed for Café du Monde, Triana’s legs felt a little wobbly. So okay, she was turned on. She supposed an hour and a half of nearly nonstop flirting could do that to a girl. She’d gone out with guys who could talk a good game before, but nothing like Remy. Bottom line, the man possessed a way with words that made her think he could make her panties wet simply by reading a dictionary to her.
Between his clever banter and smooth-as-honey voice, she was ready to skip dessert and head straight to the nearest available horizontal surface. Heck, she wasn’t even sure if the horizontal part was a definite requirement. She could think of a few standing positions that might work just as well.
It was only a short walk to Café du Monde, but they took their time anyway, slowly strolling hand-in-hand along the edges of Jackson Square, admiring the artwork set out for sale along the sidewalk. Triana discovered she and Remy had similar taste in art, both of them drawn to bold colors and strong lines. She wasn’t surprised. It was becoming more obvious to her with every passing moment that there was a serious connection between her and Remy. A few days ago, she would have said the idea was crazy, but right then, she had to admit maybe her mother was right. Maybe the magic of New Orleans had had a hand in bringing her and Remy together after so many years apart.
From the moment Remy had picked her up that night, Triana had felt the crazy sexual spark that seemed to exist between them growing brighter. Within seconds of coming downstairs, she’d gotten all warm and tingly. From that point on, every touch, every heated glance, every innuendo-filled sentence had only turned her on more. Right then, she was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. As turned on as she was, she could almost believe Remy could actually give her an orgasm without ever touching her. In theory, something like that shouldn’t be scientifically possible. Then again, science couldn’t explain just how perfect Remy Boudreaux was, either.
